


lay down your burdens

by cassi0pei4



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Hair Braiding, Hair Brushing, Light Dom/sub, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, References to Leia/Han - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 15:30:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16977204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassi0pei4/pseuds/cassi0pei4
Summary: Amilyn helps Leia unwind.





	lay down your burdens

Leia would say that it had been a long day, but that turn of phrase has long since lost its meaning.  It had been a long month, and a still longer year.  There was simply never enough: never enough hours in the day, never enough credits, never enough supplies, never enough hopeful youths eager for the grand General Organa to send to their all-to-certain deaths. 

She takes a deep breath.  She’s reached the time of night when that last thought becomes omnipresent, their ghosts haunting her like a fog until their silenced cries become screams pounding her temples.  She closes the data pad in front of her and leans back in her chair, her eyes closed, the pads of her fingers pressed against the bridge of her nose to dull the ache. 

She hears the doors to her office open and reluctantly opens her eyes. 

Amilyn stands there looking like a sprig of lavender made human, tall and slim and straight-backed with steel and purple woven throughout her clothes.  Leia smiles.  She’s not sure if any of the smile shows through — she can feel herself try but somewhere between the emotion and her muscles something is lost in translation.

“The coordinate updates are complete.” Amilyn says, entering the room and offering a data chip for Leia to take. 

It takes her a moment to remember what Amilyn is talking about, and a moment more to reach out and take the chip from Amilyn’s bracelet-laden hand. 

Amilyn’s noticed something amiss.  Her friend was always astoundingly, annoyingly, astute. 

“Thank you,” Leia says, meeting Amilyn’s appraising eyes.

There’s a moment when neither of them speak and Leia feels the air around them heavy with words unspoken. 

“Do you still have that bottle of Corellian Reserve?” Amilyn asks. She’s smiling that trademark quarter smile that makes her look like she’s just thought of a joke she’s not allowed to share. 

 “It was never mine.  It’s Han’s,” Leia says and though she tries to prevent it, even she can hear the bitterness seeping into her tone. 

Amilyn deftly sidesteps the grenade like a practiced dancer.  Perhaps that’s why she and Leia have stayed so close for so long.  Leia knows it’s hard to walk through her minefield — her husband, her son, her father, her brother, her planet — but, somehow Amilyn not only manages it but does so gracefully. 

Amilyn moves to a cabinet on the side of Leia’s desk and finds the bottle there, corked but opened. 

“I don’t think he’d begrudge you this.” Amilyn says, her voice soft.  They both know that she’s not talking about the whiskey. 

Amilyn’s right.  She usually is.  Leia reaches into another drawer to find two glasses. She offers the cleaner of the two and takes the other to the worn couch in her sitting room, where Amilyn follows and fills both with a generous portion of the amber liquid. 

Their glasses clink softly in the silence of her room, but no words are spoken.  What would she say?  To cocky, flyboy not-so-ex-husbands abandoning their booze along with their marriage vows?  To the 527th day spent without even a sense that her brother is alive?  To another day fighting the good fight?

Amilyn never requires that of her.  She doesn’t have to be brave here, doesn’t have to speak, doesn’t have to shoulder the burden of whatever happens next. 

The whiskey is good, strong enough that the first sip burns her throat and smooth enough to soothe the hurt it leaves in its wake.  She doesn’t allow herself these indulgences often, not the whiskey, nor the quiet, nor Amilyn’s company. 

Amilyn is waiting for her, will sit with her for hours, just nursing her whiskey if Leia simply wants silence.  But Leia knows should speak.  She knows that sharing some of the poison welling up inside her can dilute its potency. 

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” she says because it’s all she can manage and she knows Amilyn will know what she means.

She can hear Amilyn’s intake of breath but before she can speak, Leia spits out,

“Don’t quote me to me,” and knows she sounds irritable saying it, but she can’t stomach hearing about hope and dawn. 

Part of her is itching for a fight.  Han would always give that to her: fight, fuck, flight, repeat.

Amilyn’s silent then and as the seconds pass, guilt begins to twist inside of her that this time Amilyn will finally turn away from watching Leia’s armor crack. 

Instead, Leia feels Amilyn’s hand caress the nape of her neck and gently tilt her head until she’s enveloped in a kiss.  It’s a rush, a swift decompression sweeping over her. She tries to direct things, tries to make Amilyn kiss her deeper and harder but Amilyn’s height has Leia at a disadvantage even when they’re both seated and Amilyn won’t seem to let her take control of anything. 

Amilyn pulls back after a few moments, and Leia’s almost embarrassed to find herself already a little short of breath. 

“Do you want to talk?” Amilyn says, her voice steady and gentle as she strokes a single strand of hair that’s found its way loose. 

The question is nearly rhetorical. 

Leia shakes her head anyway.  

Amilyn smiles and kisses her again.  This time, Leia tries to thread her fingers through Amilyn’s hair, but before she can do more than stroke once through the silky strands, Amilyn’s hands have closed over her wrists and pulled them back down to Leia’s side. 

Leia shivers.  Usually she’s the one who takes charge, but she can’t help but yearn to see what it’s like to be at Amilyn’s mercy. 

She is infuriatingly gentle.  Every time Leia pushes for more, Amilyn seems to pause for a moment and give her nothing, until in the end, Leia is just receiving, a pliant subject of Amilyn’s unerring and unending attention. 

When Amilyn eventually leans back, Leia is dizzy with the loss of sensation. 

“I’d like you to take this off,” Amilyn says, pulling at Leia’s clothes gently, “and go kneel on your bed.”  She says it so plainly.  Amilyn has never been one to rule a ship with barked orders or shouts but Leia recognizes this tone.  It’s soft but unflinchingly stern and Leia is almost eager to do as she’s told. 

She strips off her clothes, leaving them by the bed and then goes to kneel in the center of it, waiting.  The tries not to think about how she looks – her skin softer and dimpled with age, muscles weakened from too long away from the front.

Her hair is still braided and pinned. She reaches to begin to undo its twists when Amilyn stops her. 

“Leave it.”

Leia shivers.  Her hands fall back to her sides.  She can hear Amilyn moving behind her. 

The bed dips as Amilyn settles behind her. Her hands find Leia’s shoulders and stroke down her arms with her nails, Amilyn’s mouth brushing her neck with kisses that are far too gentle to be satisfying. 

Leia’s head falls to the side with a sigh.  Amilyn releases her, leaning back, her hands moving to Leia’s hair. 

“I’d like to let it down and braid it for you.”  Amilyn’s voice is soft, not quite a question, not quite a command.  Amilyn knows how personal this is, how intimate, knows that Han used to do this for her, early in their marriage, during the good years.  

Leia nods.  She doesn’t want to speak.  Speaking now would feel somehow like taking responsibility for something again – she doesn’t have to, not here, not now. 

Leia feels want twist inside her as Amilyn pulls the first pin holding one twisted braid in place, her fingers rubbing the scalp gently. She’s moving slowly.  With each pin removed Leia can feel her hair fall and brush against her back, whisper soft. 

It’s not nearly enough. Leia wants Amilyn’s hands on her, wants to feel more of her, wants to be overwhelmed with her, anything more than floating in this teasing gentleness. 

Amilyn’s lips brush the edge of her ear as another pin is removed and another braid falls. 

“Touch yourself.” 

Oh what that voice does to her, still so soft and even and calm.  Leia tries to touch herself as Amilyn would, starting slowly, gently, but she finds that she has none of Amilyn’s patience.

“You’re so gorgeous.”

Amilyn’s voice is so warm, like basking in dual suns. It’s overwhelming, intoxicating.

“Do you realize the effect you have on me? On all of us? I bet more than half our pilots have laid in their bunks at night, fucking their hands and wishing it was you.” Amilyn pauses and Leia can hear the smile in her next words, “I know I have.”

Something twists in Leia’s stomach, something base and dark. Leia slides a third finger into herself and it stretches her just enough to burn and it’s exactly what she wants.

“I love that you’re mine.”

All hers.  Her hair is loose from its twists now, wrapped instead around Amilyn’s fingers as she pulls occasionally, hard, purposefully, so that Leia can’t stop herself from moaning. 

Leia’s fingers keep circling her clit.  Two circles, harder and harder, then sweeping inside herself, then circling again, faster.  

“How does it feel Leia?” 

Leia might go mad. Amilyn has that teasing tone as she twists Leia’s hair, pulling just hard enough that she feels like she’s being gently lit on fire.   

Amilyn is kissing down her neck, licking until she finds that patch where her neck meets her shoulder where Amilyn flicks her tongue until Leia spasms from the sensation.  And then Amilyn bites and Leia is can feel herself crescendo, panting moans with every breath. 

“Stop.”

Leia groans, stilling her hand.  Amilyn reaches around, grasps Leia’s hand and pulls to own mouth, licking and sucking gently at Leia’s fingers. 

Amilyn presses at Leia’s shoulders, twisting her until Leia falls backwards onto the bed, on her back and spread open for a moment under Amilyn’s ravenous gaze, until Amilyn leans down and covers her completely, bare skin pressed against bare skin. 

Leia makes a desperate noise as Amilyn finally kisses her again, Amilyn’s hands finding hers and their arms stretching out, until they’re pinned and entwined above Leia’s head.  One of Amilyn’s thighs presses hard between Leia’s legs and she thinks she might scream from how good it feels and then Amilyn’s mouth leaves hers and kisses down her neck and chest to suck and worry one nipple and then the other and Leia’s hips can’t hold still, can’t stop pressing and grinding up at such blissful friction. 

She’s cursing and begging and moaning Amilyn’s name loud enough that anyone could hear and she doesn’t care as long as Amilyn doesn’t stop, never stops, stays here touching her, surrounding her, making her forget. 

“Do you want to come for me Leia?” Amilyn’s voice is still that even, teasing tone, but her face is flushed and her eyes are bright and Leia can feel how wet Amilyn is as their legs scissor and Amilyn grinds down on her thigh and Leia’s light-headed with how much want thrums through her.   

“Yes,” Leia breathes out, panting.  She does, so much she doesn’t know if she can stop herself. 

“Should I let you come Leia?”

And just from the tone Leia knows she’s going to keep her here, on this edge.  She can hear blood rushing in her ears and her heart is racing so fast that she feels dizzy and light-headed.  Amilyn’s mouth moves to close down on her other nipple, flicking it with her tongue and nipping it with her teeth and Leia can’t fully stifle her shout.

She’s aware that she’s begging.  Repeated, mumbled pleas and prays to whatever force is out there to listen. 

She’s not sure how long they play this game.  She begs until her throat is hoarse and then keeps begging.  She feels Amilyn shudder her completion twice but she never slows in her attention, gentle and persistent. When Leia comes, it’s as intense and powerful as she’s ever felt, but it’s in the moments after, as she catches her breath that she realizes it had been hours since she thought about the war.

The nestle together to sleep for a few hours. In the morning, as the sunlight shimmers across Amilyn’s waves, Leia can feel the weight of the General fall back on her, as it always will, but somehow, this time, it feels a little lighter. 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote 95% of this a while ago and never posted it because it felt incomplete and imperfect. I added a wee bit more and I've decided to post it anyway.
> 
> Please let me know what you think. <3


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